“I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of.” -Charles Bukowski
“I belong deeply to myself.” -Warsan Shire
“A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.” Richard Siken
“I am still learning.” -Michelangelo at age 85
“I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)” -Sylvia Plath
“I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.” -Jonathan Safran Foer
“… Nothing precedes a poem but silence, and nothing follows a poem but silence. A poem is an interruption of silence, whereas prose is a continuation of noise.” -Billy Collins
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” -Albert Camus
“In Austin, someone has scrawled on the bathroom wall of a cafe on Congress Street, “I don’t know if you or I exist, but somewhere there are poems about us.” -Linh Dinh
“Screw poetry, it’s you I want,
your taste, rain
on you, mouth on your skin.” -Margaret Atwood
“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.” -Carl Sagan
“Dedicated to everyone who wonders if I’m writing about them. I am.” -Unknown Author
“nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands” -e.e. cummings
“May the bouquet
of your hips wither.
May the wolves
forget your name.” -J. Bradley
“We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday.” -Andrea Gibson
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.” -Robert Frost